Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A Place In Time ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter 5

 

For a few seconds no one said anything and then one quiet voice spoke up, “I don't think this is the best place to be having this discussion,” Lady Une gestured to the exit of the hall and turned to face the blonde pilot again. “Is there somewhere else we can go perhaps?”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“Quat…” Upon the hesitant question all eyes turned to the braided boy, “where's Heero?”

 

“He's with Zechs and Treize.”

 

Duo turned incredulous violet eyes on the blonde teenager, “you left Heero Yuy with them? You left Heero Yuy unattended with two people he's been trying to kill for the better part of a year? You left Heero Yuy, the mission man, with two people who it was his mission to kill and you expect them to be alive when you get back?”

 

Quatre smiled softly, “something tells me they'll be ok but you should go and check if you're worried, I'll let Heero tell you what's going on, meet us in the Room of Requirements later, you know where the hospital wing is don't you?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Duo ran a hand through his messy braid, “I'm guessing we're trying to keep them alive for the time right?”

“That was the plan.”

“And you honestly think they'll be ok with him?”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

“Ok,” Duo's eyes had narrowed on the other boy, “what do you know that I don't.”

Quatre laughed softly, “I just don't think we'll have a problem but by all means check, he probably shouldn't be up there on his own anyway. Have Heero fill you in on what's been happening or meet us at the Room once you've checked to see if they're ok. Oh and have him talk to the house elves about getting the rooms ready for you, he gets on with them really well.”

 

Duo sent him a thumbs up as he left the room and Quatre turned back to the others.

 

“Well, ready for an unbelievable story?”

 

“If this is your idea of a `small unexpected development' I would hate to see a big one.” The mutter from the Latin pilot made Quatre blink at him quizzically, “That's how you described the situation to Duo,” Trowa explained. “We've had a `small, unexpected development' you said.”

 

“Well, maybe I understated a tad…”

 

Chattering quietly among themselves the eight young men and women walked out of the room, the almost forgotten Professors trailing behind them.

 

“I can't believe this,” Minerva whispered softly. Severus and Albus just looked at her. “They're children, all of them, just kids, what happened to them? Look at them!”

 

Both Severus and Albus looked and both saw the same thing, they watched three young men and five young women walk together.

 

The three boys all with perfect posture, all clearly armed, all watchful for any dangers, all smiling, well of a fashion, and talking quietly as though they had no cares in the world but all with haunting shadows darkening their eyes. The signs were obvious if you knew where to look for them.

 

And then there were the girls, the eldest, Lady Une and Sally couldn't be any more than… twenty-two Draco had said. Yet the blonde's medical skills were apparently legendary and the brunette's ruthlessness and competency in running the defence, not just for the world but the colonies too, spoke of years of experience and long training. Not even the younger ones had escaped, two blonde teenagers walking close together, one a complete pacifist, head of her family's nation and then Queen of the World at age sixteen, there had been a war fought in her name. The second came from a family that devoted itself to the practice of war and she had fought against the gundam pilots at the end, using the ZERO system to give her the advantage in battle, almost killing the young Slytherin whom they had all thought they knew. The last was moving with the complete aptitude of an accomplished soldier, she knew her body and how well it could move, she wasn't going to hesitate, it was easy to see why she had been given the task of guarding the young royal.

 

What they could see was obvious, eight young people whose lives had been made, shaped and destroyed by the wars that had been fought both around, for and by them.

 

***

 

Heero sat, watching them. Zechs face was turned towards him and he was wearing a gentle smile, he looked truly at peace for the first time since Heero had met him.

 

Treize looked younger; his face was missing the lines that had stood out so prominently on his youthful features, especially towards the end of the war. Strange how he'd never noticed the differences sooner… but this was the first time he'd actually stopped and watched the two of them for any length of time. Before he'd always been in a hurry to leave, to make sure they didn't get caught together, to make sure no one knew. He'd nearly managed it, they'd managed to keep it from everyone but Quatre and since he was an empath it hardly counted.

 

He could still remember the strange sensations of horror, terror and relief that had flooded through him when Quatre had smiled at him innocently and asked if he'd had a nice time out with Zechs and Treize.

 

He'd made the subsequent denials of course but he'd known the blonde pilot wasn't just bluffing. He'd been right; Quatre had looked at him again this time with an expression that said `please, do you think I'm stupid'.

 

Half expecting to be shot on the spot he'd stood, silently, not even attempting to reach for a weapon. Quatre hadn't shot him though. Quatre had hugged him!

 

He'd stood, frozen, not knowing how to react until he'd relaxed enough to hug the blonde back, what he'd originally viewed as weakness he now recognised as Harry coming to the forefront for one of the first times he could remember, even if their personalities hadn't merged yet, he obviously already had some influence.

 

He hadn't really realised just how much trouble he was getting himself into when he'd fallen for the two of them, let alone started a relationship with them. For him though, when he'd met them, something had just clicked.

 

The first time he'd met Zechs the other pilot had nearly succeeded in killing him and that was enough to make Heero wonder about him enough to accept the invitation to Antarctica when it came. He'd been unprepared for the rush of emotions, like all that J had tried to block out. Acting on his emotions he'd reached out and had shaken the other's hand, ignoring Trowa's surprise, surprise that he knew would be unnoticed by all others but him. He'd known in that instant that he couldn't fight using the Wing gundam; he'd known that he couldn't kill him.

 

That was the moment at which he should have stopped but he hadn't been able to resist going for one more look the next time his own connections reported that the blonde was in the same area. It hadn't been Zechs he'd found though.

 

#~#Flashback#~#

 

He slipped into the room silently, with the confidence that came from knowing that no one on the compound knew of his arrival. He was intent on understanding his feelings or killing the man on the spot but, of course, things weren't going to go to plan.

 

Instead of Zechs he was confronted with the image of an exhausted Treize Khushrenada, lying on the bed, not sleeping, eyes blank, staring at the ceiling of the ornate room. The haunted look on his face was obvious even from where Heero was standing. Why was Treize here? He was supposed to be halfway around the world by now, why was he here? And why did he look like he hadn't slept in a month? Rushed with the feeling that he wanted nothing more than to stop the man hurting he froze in shock. He hated this man, he was responsible for the deaths of Noventa, Ventei and countless others… so why couldn't he stop staring at him?

 

There was a kind of ethereal beauty in the other man's, oh so visible, demons. Then Zechs had entered the room and the spell had been broken.

 

The blonde looked tired but determined, desperation was also evident on his face, “Treize, you need to sleep.”

 

The ginger haired man neglected to reply, he gave no indication that he'd even heard the Zechs' words.

 

“Treize please.”

 

The `please' had garnered a response.

 

“How can I sleep? I can see them screaming in my dreams. I deserve to die for the things I've done. I'm just too much of a coward to do the job myself,” he'd given a bitter laugh that, despite his own inner demons, had caused Heero to fight a flinch. Zechs clearly had no such reservations and he shuddered slightly, even more so with the older man's next words. “Maybe if I wait long enough one of those pilots will come and finish it off.”

 

“You made a mistake. You're only human Treize you can't get everything right all the time. You're doing an incredible job for only being twenty-four.”

 

For the first time in the conversation Treize moved at those words. “It's not enough though is it? I don't even know what I'm trying to do anymore Zechs. I engineered the deaths of pacifists Zechs! My enemies yes, I've never had any problems with killing my enemies, but pacifists?! People who trusted me, people who weren't going to fight, people who hadn't done anything wrong but take steps towards a future that would have limited my power. That's evil Zechs! Can you honestly tell me that what I did was right?”

“No,” the reply was near silent and even Heero had to strain to hear it, “but I can see how you feel now, I can see that you know you made a mistake, I can see that you're sorry…”

“Sometimes though…” the answer was heavy with regret, “sometimes `sorry' just isn't enough.”

 

#~#End flashback#~#

 

He'd left as Treize was being pulled into the arms of Zechs Marquise, the blonde's tears running down to fall on Treize's hair.

 

He'd left. He hadn't been able to stop himself going back just a few night's later though.

 

#~#Flashback#~#

 

Perched on the railing he'd stayed on before he silently surveyed the scene, Treize was sitting at the desk, an open laptop in front of him, he wasn't typing though, his eyes were fixed on an image of Sylvia Noventa, the young woman Heero had visited just weeks ago.

 

Heero could tell that he was deep in though, the page hadn't scrolled down in all the time he'd been watching him, Treize was just staring at the photograph of the smiling young woman who the caption claimed was Sylvia Noventa, granddaughter of the most famous of Treize's unknown victims.

 

He was never going to understand what would provoke his next actions but he also would never grow to regret them.

 

Silently he crept down off the sill and into the room, Treize froze as the reflection appeared on the screen of the computer. He bowed his head, expecting a shot.

 

Heero paused uncertainly and Treize, as if realising his hesitation turned slowly to face him, the door had opened at that moment but neither looked away. Heero felt his breath catching in his throat, oh God; this hadn't been in the plan.

 

------------------

 

Zechs' jaw dropped at the scene he was looking at, Heero and Treize were staring at each other, each seeming unwilling to look away. He didn't move, reluctant to disturb either man, not wanting to antagonise an already tense situation, not wanting the death of Heero or Treize to be on his conscience by the end of the day.

 

After what seemed like an eternity Heero spoke, “You're not, you know.”

 

His own bewilderment had been mirrored in Treize's eyes.

 

“Not what?”

 

“Evil,” Heero took a deep breath, seemingly disbelieving that he was saying these things to these people, here. “You're not evil.”

 

“How…” Treize's voice cracked, “How do you know that? How can you think that? If anyone has the right to think I'm evil then it's you.”

 

“I know because… because you regret it, you made a mistake, now make amends.”

With those words Zechs and Treize had watched as Heero turned and disappeared out of the window faster than they could blink, by the time they'd recovered enough to move to the window and look out the unruly haired pilot had vanished.

 

#~#End Flashback#~#

 

It had developed almost into a game, he'd go and see how they were, never speaking more than a few words, never staying for long but appearing every night when he was close enough to drop in.

 

He'd known they were lovers of course, it was never explicitly said but he'd known, it had been impossible to miss and he'd felt a hurt in his soul when he'd seen them together, a longing for the same closeness he could see they felt.

 

He'd realised that was what it was later but not until his own yearning had gone away. He'd only noticed when the bone-deep loneliness had been replaced by the warm contentment he'd felt when he was the one to put the smiles on their faces, when it had been his lips one of them had been claiming in a kiss…

 

He knew he'd been stupid of course, he knew that he had no business falling for the enemy, let alone two of them, but for him something had just clicked when he'd met them, something he'd never felt before.

 

Then he'd become Harry and Quatre had become Draco and after that he'd known he couldn't see them ever again. He'd found out about his heritage and everything had changed. Something in particular had started to pull at his memory, it was something he'd read about once and, when he turned his attention towards it, he had found what had made him act that way when meeting Zechs and Treize for the first time. It had been the natural magical reaction of a wizard or witch to meeting one of their… well soulmates sounded too cliché but it was probably the closest thing to it. All wizards had several people who they could spend the rest of their lives with and they also tended to meet them young, magic calling to magic, that was why so many wizards and witches married young and why so few marriages in the wizarding world ended in divorce. All wizards felt something when they first met their soulmate, it didn't matter if they knew what they were feeling or not.

 

He'd talked to Quatre about what he knew about the subject that very night, he'd claimed it was one of his memories that he wanted to clarify and the blonde had given him a look that said he knew he was lying but he was going to let it go, this time.

 

He'd listened detachedly, carefully, comparing his memory with what he was learning now and then cross-referencing it with his feelings about Zechs and Treize. Then he'd begun to panic. From then on he'd stopped seeing the leaders and had refused to think about them, refusing to believe that it would hurt no matter what he did.

 

Quatre had looked at him worriedly each time he'd seen him, it was obvious he though that ignoring the two men wasn't the best thing to do in this situation but he hadn't said anything. Hadn't commented on the gaunt cheeks or the dark shadows under his eyes that were gradually getting darker. He'd just squeezed his hand tightly, letting him know without words that if he needed to talk the blonde would always listen to him.

 

He hadn't said anything but that had meant more than anything else to him at that time, even as Harry he'd always been under an obligation to talk to someone who had no real idea about what he was going through. Quatre hadn't demanded he say anything, he'd just let him know he was there.

 

He'd only taken him up on it once, Christmas Eve, the night the war ended, the night he'd seen Zechs blow himself up. The night he'd listened to Wufei's, less-than-victorious, announcement that Treize Khushrenada was dead.

 

He'd waited till Trowa had been dragged away from the vigil he was keeping at Quatre's hospital bedside by Sally, to be examined for any injuries. The blonde was awake and had just looked at him as he'd sat down on the bed carefully, not wanting to disturb the Arabian.

 

He'd sat there and curled into a ball as tightly as he could, feeling his heart breaking, replaying the moment he saw the explosion far away and realised that it was Treize and Wufei, that for one of them it was now over, then he'd heard Wufei's voice and he'd known. He'd ignored it and had taken off to fight Zechs, he'd employed training techniques that he'd been trying to eliminate to put the last part of himself into fighting his other lover.

 

He hadn't even realised that he'd been crying, until Quatre had pulled him into his arms roughly and had begun to rock him like a child. That was the first and last time he could ever remember crying and, somehow, sobbing into the Sandrock pilot's chest had made him feel better, it hadn't taken away his heartbreak but it had made him realise he wasn't alone.

 

He'd asked if it ever stopped hurting. Quatre had shaken his head but said that it did get better. Was this better? He wasn't sure.

 

How could it be better when now he was running the risk of losing them again? What was he going to do if they decided that the two men needed to be killed to preserve the peace? Neither of them would argue, they'd already good as killed themselves for the peace already, neither would object if they were told that their deaths were needed. In fact they'd probably welcome it.

 

He was ignoring that it was still his mission to kill them. During the war his response, to realising that he'd have to kill his lovers or stand by while one of his comrades did was determination to ignore them both, so when it happened it wouldn't hurt so much.

 

It hadn't worked.

 

He'd had to come to terms with that once, they couldn't ask him to do it again could they?

 

Slowly he pulled a knife out of a sheath that he had concealed under the jacket he'd shrugged on, as the hospital wing had grown colder. He ran the blade over his finger deliberately, watching the thin sliver of blood well up and flow languidly. It would be so easy to kill them, to kill both of them and then himself. So easy to kill them like this… well, it would be physically anyway. Mentally was a whole other concept and, inside, he knew that there was no way he'd be able to kill someone like that, like a coward, while they were lying unconscious, especially not them, even if he hadn't been in love with them, they still deserved better.

 

Reaching out a hand he gently brushed away one long, white-blonde, bang from his lover's face, ex-lover, his mind forcibly reminded him, `he's not going to want anything to do with you now is he, even if he does survive. Neither of them are,' the thought finished as he traced a scar on Treize's eyebrow. A scar that he knew the other man had gotten when he'd fallen out of a tree trying to impress Zechs when they had been younger. Somehow it was comforting that not all scars were war related.

 

How could this be better? He'd already seen them die once; he couldn't watch it again.